LAWN, LOUNGERS,
AND LEMON TREES

The garden is still, wrapped in birdsong and the whisper of pine needles overhead. Afternoons pass between the soft splash of the hand-painted Sicilian ceramic pool and the gentle shuffle of cards in the shade.

Now and then, someone brings a silver tray, a cedrata, a cold espresso, a glass of vermouth with a twist. There’s no menu, only what feels right in the moment. The light shifts, the sky fades slightly, and the day continues without ever really changing pace.